If It's You
by zerophelia
Summary: Convinced he's only being toyed with, Yuri gets fed up with Victor's misleading behavior and confronts him in a rage only to deeply regret it a moment later. He was convinced there was no way such a man could love him back, but to Victor, "if it's Yuuri, I don't mind." Post Canon.


**If It's You**

A _Yuuri! On Ice_ Fan Fiction

* * *

"If it's Yuuri, I don't mind."

Yuuri's ears immediately burned red just as soon as the words left Victor's mouth. He looked over at his mentor's face, anger and hurt growing at the sight of his carefree smile. _How can he always say that like it's nothing?_ Georgi huffed at Victor's response. It was always like this. Yuuri couldn't exactly say he hated the intimacy with which Victor treated him, but as time went on it never lead where he wished. A few flirtatious words, a small touch, a bright smile. All actions capable of making Yuuri's heart flutter, yet he knew to Victor they carried no special meaning.

But as soon as these precious moments are noticed by others, the two were always scolded.

" _If anyone else had heard you right now, they would think there was something going on."_

" _Victor, if you touch him like that, your fans will get the wrong idea."_

" _The press would go crazy if they saw that."_

Every time Victor would turn to the intruder with a smile and reply, _"If it's Yuuri, I don't mind."_

Sliding out of the older man's grasp, Yuuri skated to exit the rink and head back into the locker room. He no longer cared about practice. He needed to get away from Victor, from the man whose careless words could make his heart race with hope and dread all at once. He could hear that same voice call after him with confusion, but he couldn't let himself stop.

As if could he ever let Victor see him this way.

Picking up his water, he took a large gulp before letting his body slump onto the bench. Alone within the four walls of the locker room, he allowed his face to fall to his hands and a pained groan to escapes his lips.

The first few times he wasn't bothered. If anything, he was elated. The great Victor Nikiforov was thinking of him as special, right? He ventured to let himself hope that this meant the man he has had a crush on his entire life saw Yuuri in the same light, but as time went on there was no progress. Victor had clung to him, kissed him, and even accepted his gift of a golden ring and yet their relationship had never truly moved forward.

There was no other explanation: Victor was toying with him.

This had been made abundantly clear in Barcelona when Phichit had seen their rings and read them as a sign of marriage. Yuuri had been mortified, but Victor merely brushed the comment away by backhandedly stating that Yuuri had yet to prove himself worthy of the man with five gold medals.

After everything he had learned and all the ways he had changed since meeting Victor, Yuuri was still lacking.

 _If it's Yuri, I don't mind._

The words sound almost like a confession, but yet they repeatedly met Yuuri's ears with despair.

The brunette had just replaced his glasses and began unlacing his skates when the door leading to the rink was torn open and his sanctuary dissolved.

"Are you alright, Yuuri?"

Victor entered the room, his perfect air and poise intact despite the film of sweat that coated his skin and shimmering hair. Yuuri, with his aura of doom, surprised himself with a sudden masochistic streak. Head tilted with his glasses to shield his eyes, he asked, "Are you sure you should be leaving practice? You could give everyone the wrong idea."

Blue eyes lit up brightly as Victor replied with a smirk and soft voice, "If it's Yuuri, I don't mind."

If he had said anything else with that tone, Yuuri might have believed it.

"Stop."

Yuuri didn't think he could get so riled up by a trap he set up and walked into on his own. He jumped to his feet immediately, blood boiling as fuel for a rare moment of courage and confrontation. He lifted his gaze to meet Victor's startled expression head-on. It was a bit awkward given the considerable height advantage Victor held with his skates on, but Yuuri stood his ground.

"You're always saying, 'If it's Yuuri, I don't mind.' Don't you know how dangerous that is? Forget about how other people would see it, don't you think that _I_ could get the wrong idea?"

Fear leaked into Victor's eyes and mingled with the blue that Yuuri had always liked so much. It poured ice over the fire in his veins and he didn't know if he would have the strength to continue _. Oh, how it hurt._ Yuuri shut his eyes tight, his head lowering once again. The sadness cracked through the anger in his voice, but he decided to keep talking.

"Did you ever stop to think that _I_ might mind, Victor? That it might cause a problem for _me_ to lie in bed every night haunted by the ghost of your sugared words?" Brown eyes opened once again to meet the icy blue. _There's no going back now I've said this much_. He took a step forward, pushing Victor flush against the lockers with confidence regained. "That I could toss and turn for hours longing for the comfort of your body pressed against mine?"

Yuuri reached up on his toes, lips to Victor's ear, "Did you ever think that I might lay awake and sweaty at the memory of your hot lips on mine?"

He pulled back, captivated by the flush of Victor's face for long enough to think he might be a sadist instead, before refocusing on the topic at hand.

"If you keep saying such things, Victor, it won't be long before I'm in love with you."

He said it, and the embarrassment of his actions hit him immediately. His face somehow hit a whole new level of red as he stepped back even farther. Even with wishing he would be stuck down with lightning where he stood, Yuuri found a sense of relief. All that was left was Victor's response.

Yuuri waited… and waited… and the burn of his face began to fade. He finally looked up, finding Victor frozen in shock. Was it really so surprising that such behavior could give Yuuri these thoughts? The silver-haired idol showed no sign of moving, so Yuuri took this as his cue to leave.

"Shinji rarenai*," Yuuri muttered, grabbing his bag and shoes and heading towards the exit. He had no idea where he would go, considering he currently staying at a guest in Victor's apartment, but there had to be a hotel or something nearby. That's right, he would pick up his stuff from Victor's place, go to a hotel and start looking up flights back to Hatetsu. He could go home and do his best to forget this ever happened.

A pair of arms seized him and Yuri found himself standing in the doorway between the locker room and the hallway that leads to the lobby. Victor's grip around his chest grew tighter and he could feel the sob that racked through the older man's body. The back of his neck grew wet as Victor leaned his head rest on Yuuri's shoulder. Yuuri froze, his heart contracting as he realized what was happening.

Victor was crying.

 _He_ had made Victor _cry_.

Regret took over all feeling as Yuuri stood at a loss for words. In his mind, the one he loved was always smiling, but here stood Victor soaking Yuuri's sweatshirt in salty tears. It was all because he had to go and say those disgusting things.

"Yuuri." Victor's voice quivered as he whispered the name.

"Victor—" The Japanese skater couldn't think of what else to say, "I-I'm sorry. I went too far." A hot tear found its way down Yuuri's cheek. He lost his temper and said too much, and now he would have to leave Victor's side.

"Yuuri." Victor spoke again. "Yuuri, if it's you, I don't mind."

If Yuuri had been confused before, he didn't know how to label what he felt now. _Why would you say that now of all times?_

"If it's you," Victor started again, "You can love me."

 _なに_ _? (_ _Nani?*)_

"It it's you, I want you to love me."

 _なんで_ _? (_ _Nande?*)_

"Yuuri… If it's you… Could I love you too?"

 _え_ _-?! (Ehhhhh?!*)_

Yuuri's found his composure had left the building. He turned around, tripping slightly on the bag he didn't realize he had dropped. "What? Victor? What are you—?"

Victor fought to keep Yuuri close to him, causing the two to stumble and land one over the other on the locker room floor.

A bewildered Yuuri looked down at Victor's form below him, his breath catching as he studied the desperation in Victor's eyes: still and shocked as ice, but certainly not cold.

"Don't go, Yuuri… Onegaishimasu.*" He whispered.

Yuuri's eyes somehow found a way to grow even wider. On one hand, he was still majorly confused and not even sure what was happening now was even real, but on the other hand, Victor Nikiforov is begging him to stay in Japanese and _god damn_ if it wasn't the _sexiest_ thing in all of creation.

"Onegaishimasu, ore no Yuuri.*"

Those four words were all it took for the twenty-four-year-old Japanese silver medalist to completely give in. All reservations aside, Yuuri lowered his face to hover just above Victor's, studying the melted pools that begged him to finish closing the distance.

"If it's you, Victor, I'll be yours."

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 **Japanese Guide:**

Shinji rarenai – Unbelievable

 _なに? –_ Nani? – What? (Should this have "ka"?)

 _なんで? –_ Nande? – Why? (This too?)

 _え—?! –_ Ehhhhhhh?! – WHAAAAATTTTTTT?!

Onegaishimasu – Please

Onegaishimasu, ore no Yuuri. – Please, my Yuuri. (I don't technically know if the placement if this sentence is right, but it serves it's purpose.)

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This fan fic marks my official debut into the YOI fandom as a fan fic author. Please let me know what you think, including any tips on what I could have done to improve this one-shot. This is also the first one-shot I have ever written, so I hope I did an okay job. Please review!

Arigato Gozaimashita,

zerOphelia


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